


i see stars when you're on my mind

by meathermac



Category: NADDPOD - Fandom, Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, FUCKING HATE IT HERE, I Have Made Several Mistakes, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Main Campaign, This is mostly a joke, Trinyvale - Freeform, Trinyvale Spoilers, i hate. i hate this So Much, i'm not. i can't do this, i'm sorry naddpod tag, katie the parasite is a frog in this i don't have to explain myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meathermac/pseuds/meathermac
Summary: i can't bring myself to write a serious summary for this. a truly horrible jenster fic inspired by a challenge issued on the naddcord: what if we made this ship good, actually?we haven't managed it yet.
Relationships: Jens Lyndelle/Aster Starsage
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	i see stars when you're on my mind

**Author's Note:**

> i'm THROWING MYSELF INTO THE GRAND CANYON
> 
> naddcord i hate all of you. shoutout to claire and nicki and strel for being my terrible associates in the jenster renaissance, shoutout to josie for the basis of this, and shoutout to the rest of the naddcord/ziscord for encouraging me even though you Should Not Have. i hate every single one of you <3

Jens Lyndelle is an  _ idiot _ . 

This isn’t a controversial take of any sort, if you were to ask any number of family members or friends they’d probably agree with it. Some of them would say they love him in spite of it, some of them (particularly his roommate, Onyx Lumiere) would just nod and leave it at that. 

Jens, on the other hand, disagrees on  _ so _ many levels--and Onyx is the one keeping a zoo in their shitty little apartment, thank you very  _ much _ \--because he’s not an idiot, he’s just not accustomed to his new school yet. Never mind the fact that he’s been going there for a year. 

Speaking of Onyx’s zoo, one of her frogs (Katie, he thinks) has escaped and is now attempting to eat Pringles out of the tube, and her dog is alternating between barking at it and eating the Pringles it knocks onto the floor. 

(Let’s get an apartment, he said. It’ll be cheaper, he said.)

He ignores the menagerie of animals his roommate is keeping and tosses his bag onto the couch, where it lands on his younger brother with a satisfying  _ floomp. _

“Welcome home, brother,” Nyack says, sitting up and setting the bag off to the side. “Were your classes good today?” 

“They’re fine,” he mutters, looking around for his phone. “Is Onyx home? It’s already 5.” 

He shakes his head. “She’s out with Keith, I think.” 

“Hm. Can you go get Katie and put her back in her terrarium? She’s eating Pringles.” Jens eventually finds his phone (in his back pocket, where he left it) and checks his Trinstagram, frowning at the lack of new likes. 

“Anything for you, brother.” 

“Half-brother,” Jens corrects, irritated. “We’re half-brothers. It’s different.”

Nyack ignores him and gently scoops up the frog, returning her to her terrarium. “Are you doing anything tonight, Jens?” 

“I don’t know, probably.” He’s absolutely not, but he refuses to go out to another club with Onyx and Nyack. Onyx parties  _ hard, _ and Nyack is a lightweight. Both of them are awful, and Jens hates them. 

He hums, tossing a leftover chip to Onyx’s dog, Obsidian. “Mom told me that I should make sure you are adjusting properly to this school, brother.” 

“I’m adjusting perfectly,” he snaps. “I have tons of friends.” 

(He doesn’t. He has three, and they’re Nyack, Onyx, and a girl he went to high school with named Rebecca. Also, none of them are his friends either.)

The door slams and Onyx slumps against it dramatically, her skirt swishing behind her like she’s in some sort of movie. “Jens, Nyack, I have had a truly horrible day,” she says, her European-adjacent accent thicker than most days. “I do not know what I am supposed to do in this relationship.” 

“And you’re going to ask us for relationship advice?” Nyack asks incredulously. “I don’t do much dating, sister.” 

Jens groans. “You’re not related. We’re not related. And I give  _ great _ relationship advice, thank you very much.” 

Onyx considers this for a moment, twisting one of her curls around her finger. “I do not think this is true. Your last boyfriend and you lasted around three days. I will ask Katie.” 

“Katie is a  _ frog _ ,” he points out, though she doesn’t seem to care. Onyx coos at the frog, which ribbits, and she nods thoughtfully. 

“She has given me great insight in the past, Jens,” Onyx replies. “She is what convinced me to drop out of state school and come here.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna go to the cafe tonight,” Jens says, “Don’t come with me.” 

“I’m going out anyways.” Onyx pulls a mirror out of one of her pockets and begins to mess with her hair, which is thick and curly and bright purple and entangled with crystal shards (she claims it’s a look, Jens thinks she just hasn’t been able to get them out yet). “Who gets the apartment tonight if they manage to bring someone home?” 

“You,” Nyack says. “I’m going to visit my mother and father tonight. Ron wanted you to know you’re welcome to come, Jens.” 

“Tell him to fuck off.” 

He sighs and gets up. “I will not do that, brother. I have to leave now or I won’t make it in time for dinner. Onyx, have fun at Club Silver.” 

“I will!”

The triplets (as Nyack and Onyx refer to them as, Onyx is not related to the boys and Jens and Nyack are  _ barely _ half-brothers) split up for the evening, and as Jens is getting ready to leave, Onyx pokes her head out of her room and says, “Now that your brother’s gone, will you tell me why you’re going to the cafe tonight?” 

“I felt like it,” he responds, adjusting the cutout in the front of his shirt. 

She giggles and shakes her head. “And it has nothing to do with the barista that works there?” 

“As if.” Jens runs his fingers through his hair, messing with it over and over again. “He’s a barista. Not  _ nearly  _ enough money for me, honestly.” 

Onyx lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like “gold digger” and walks out of her room to crowd around the mirror with Jens. Her full skirt and white faux-fur jacket take up at least a two-foot radius around her, so he reluctantly backs away and lets her have the mirror. “How rich is rich enough for Jens Lyndelle, exactly?” 

“When I find someone who is, I’ll let you know.” 

She laughs, adjusting her crystalline earrings. “I would wish for you to have fun, but I am not sure you are capable of that, Jens.” 

“You wound me, Onyx.” 

“Well, that is the intention.” Onyx contemplates her reflection and nods, apparently deciding that she’d reached the perfect look. “Move, I’m going to Trinstagram this.” 

“Let me be in--”

“ _ No. _ ”

He huffs, annoyed. “Fine. I’m leaving then.” 

Onyx blows him a kiss as she poses in the mirror, and Jens rolls his eyes and stalks out the door, grabbing his book bag on the way out. 

The walk from their apartment to the local cafe is peaceful, to say the least. At this time of night, there’s no other students from their small liberal arts school out, and Jens hums quietly to himself as he walks. 

Rana’For College is much smaller than the school in Illivas he used to attend, a prestigious art school that his father was very much a respected alum of. Illivas School of the Arts and Dance is absolutely where Jens belongs--he  _ excelled _ there, was one of their most illustrious performers, and then he got fucking  _ kicked out _ because he  _ accidentally _ punched someone who was visiting a performance. 

Really, it was only because it was the son of the president of the college or something. Jens isn’t really certain of whether or not that was true or simply a rumor, but regardless, he’s not allowed to attend that school anymore. 

If he was a weaker man, he might have been upset about being rejected from the school his father was so well known at (immediately after his father’s untimely death, no less) but Jens wasn’t upset about it. He was just rightfully angry about being kicked out on a technicality. 

He grips the strap of his book bag and keeps walking, trying to distract himself from whatever self-loathing bullshit his brain is trying to pull right now. Jens takes out his phone, not bothering to look where he’s going, and clicks through Onyx’s Trinstagram stories--photos of her at Club Silver with her boyfriend and his friends, doing shots like it’s nothing--and he stops short, wanting to reply with something snarky, when someone walking the opposite direction runs into him, knocking his phone onto the ground. 

“Holy shit, watch where you’re going,” Jens mutters under his breath, shooting them a glare. 

“Not my fault you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk,” they reply, irritated. Jens recognizes the accent--Illivasian, probably noble.  _ Fuuuuck _ .

He picks his phone up and gestures to the streetlights around them. “It’s light out, asshole. You could have seen me.” Jens turns to the person who had so rudely ran into him, and his words catch in his throat. “See?” he says, voice cracking. “I can see you just fine right now.” 

_ That’s kind of the problem _ , he thinks, because Jens knows  _ exactly _ who the asshole in front of him is, and he’s not exactly inclined to just leave him be. 

Aster Starsage, the son of the president of Illivas School for the Arts and Dance and the same guy Jens  _ technically _ punched in the face when he still went there, stands in front of Jens with his arm crossed and one eyebrow raised, and Jens wants to punch him for real this time. 

“Jens Lyndelle.” 

“Aster,” he bites out. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You really ought to be nicer to me, Jens. I could probably get you thrown out of here as well,” Aster says.

Jens scoffs. “Okay. That’s not true, but okay. I’m gonna go to the cafe now and pray we never see each other again.” 

“It is true!” he protests, and Jens just about starts laughing at how upset he actually sounds. “Even if this isn’t my dads’ school, I still have enough money to get you thrown out again.” 

He actually has to suppress a shiver at that--maybe Onyx was right about him being attracted to money--and says, “For once in my life, I don’t want to argue with someone right now. I don’t  _ care _ how rich you are--” which is a bald-faced lie-- “you’re the one who ran into me.” 

“Everyone cares about how rich people are!” Aster sputters, and Jens just shrugs. 

“I do care, just not specifically about how rich  _ you _ are because I don’t like you.” He’s outright lying at this point, but Jens Lyndelle is as much an actor as he is anything else, and currently, it seems like he’s getting a rise out of Aster and that’s pretty entertaining. Besides, he’s not ridiculously unobservant--he can tell that Aster is trying not to look at his body and focus on his face, so Jens flips his hair over his shoulder and makes a show out of adjusting the cutout in his shirt so that it’s centered on his chest. 

“You went to Illivas School,” he points out. “At some point in your life, you must have cared about money or you wouldn’t have been there.” 

“I do care about money,” Jens repeats, gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth. “Can I kiss you?” 

Aster blinks, completely taken aback. “What?” 

“I asked if I could kiss you,” he says, “because honestly, I think money’s an attractive quality in a man.” 

He blushes and stares at the ground, and Jens takes some pride in being able to completely fluster him. “Yes, that’d be… that’d be good. You can kiss me.”

“Awesome,” Jens mumbles under his breath, tangling his fingers in Aster’s hair and kissing him, and he lets out a soft “oh” against Jens’ mouth. 

It’s damn near impossible to tell how much time has passed as they’re making out in the middle of a sidewalk hidden away from most of the campus, but it’s a lot darker out now than it was and Aster’s hands are playing with the edge of Jens’ shirt, so Jens pushes him away, breathing heavily, and says, “I have roommates. Do you have an apartment nearby?” 

“Other side of the cafe,” he answers, “we can walk.” 

“I bet it’s massive,” Jens responds breathily. “Let’s go.”

Jens has honestly never thought about it, but he wonders if more expensive apartments have better soundproofing. If they don’t, he’ll write a formal letter of apology to Aster’s neighbors--he’s normally pretty loud during sex, but fucking Aster is on some other level. 

He wakes up first and gets dressed in the same clothes he wore last night, and leaves a note on the table with his phone number and a heart. 

Onyx is already awake when Jens gets back, and as always she’s infuriatingly capable for someone who was out drinking until the break of dawn the night before. She whistles to herself as she makes her coffee, leaning against the shitty kitchen counter. “Hello, Jens! Who’d you fuck last night?” 

“It’s really none of your business, Onyx, but he was  _ definitely _ super rich.” 

“Your priorities are so strange,” she says, shaking her head. “Is this a relationship or is it casual?” 

Jens shrugs. “I don’t know. He’s got a lot of money, so like, probably a relationship?” 

“I’m starting to think you just want a sugar daddy, Jens.” 

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” he responds thoughtfully. “I don’t think I really care whether or not it turns into a relationship or not. Oh, and it’s Aster Starsage. Do you remember him?” 

She throws her head back, laughing loudly. “You’re having sex with the boy you punched and who got you kicked out of school?”

“When you say it like that it sounds weird!” Jens protests. Onyx just keeps laughing. “I don’t need judgment from you.” 

“You’re still going to receive it,” she says. “So long as you’re using protection and not breaking hearts, I don’t care what you do.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Thanks. Do you think if we get married I get half his money?” 

“Jens, you’re the worst person I’ve ever met,” she answers, downing the rest of her coffee. “And yes, but only if you text him back.” 

**Author's Note:**

> *sigh* give me comments and kudos if you want i GUESS.  
> i don't. i don't want to plug myself. i don't want you to be able to find me 
> 
> tumblr: @maple-keenes  
> twitter: @maplekeenes
> 
> please never speak to me on there if you found me through this fic i refuse to acknowledge i wrote this


End file.
